My hands are dry, creeks of blood cracking open. A pink fury. I wash and wash and hope. * * * The first week of COVID-19 quarantine, I accidentally cancel…
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Creative Nonfiction / EssayOn Instagram I’m Not My Boyfriend’s Girlfriend: 5 Notes on the Spectator & Being Dead
Text Message Exchange on December 20th: Alexandra: I think I found an actual photo of Finn cheating on you in June. Maya follows Finn on Instagram, it was not hard…
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An owl lives in the sweet gum, and tonight it has flown to our rooftop. Its calls float down to me—low and hollow—like curls of carrot peels around a bowl.…
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WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental…
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Image Credit: Patrick Moreau Regina Spektor lyrics from the song “Bon idée” in SONGS. In my basement bedroom in my semi-rural, semi-arid hometown, I lie in bed all…
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Freedom. A Blue Jay flew in circles above the birdbath we had in our backyard the day my mother left. She left one cage only to walk into another. She…
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I don’t like having sex in the dark, but tonight is different. I don’t want my body to be scrutinised. I seek comfort in the absence of light. I usually enjoy…
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“Don’t call it a comeback,” raps LL Cool J. This summer the “Dining with a Cursed Bloodline,” column ended like a Disney Classic Movie. Marriage. Happily Ever After. Roll credits.…
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When I was ten, and my sister, Eunice, was eleven, we made a suicide pact. With a rusty hacksaw we snitched from my father’s workbench; we huddled on the wooden…
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WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental…
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Image Credit: David Walker I think this is where the story starts, in 2003, in my grandma’s bedroom. It’s nearly midnight. The room is draped in the blue vibrating light…
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Woman, Running Late, In a Dress by Dallas Woodburn Yellow Flag Press, 2018 178 pages / Yellow Flag It’s confounding to have the ghost of your seven year old sister haunt…
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Butter, eggs and the emulsification of two people. My fingers gnaw at the frayed edges of a kitchen towel as lint snows all over my black pants and the familiar…
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She’ll iron her work shirts on your bathroom floor. She’ll drench your carpets in water she spills carelessly from sturdy plastic cups, and impressive torrents of tears the average hetero…
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